


Taking Requests

by Vae



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War II, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vae/pseuds/Vae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam Lambert's singing with the USO, and encounters Lt Kris Allen during a break in his set.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Requests

**Author's Note:**

> For all the ladies of the Kradam mailing list - this is your fault.
> 
> Thanks to lvs2read for swift and thorough beta work. Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own responsibility.

It takes a few minutes for Adam's eyes to adjust to the darkness outside. Blackout really does mean blackout - the only light comes from the moon and stars overhead. He's still adjusting to it; it never really gets dark enough back home to see the stars, but England knows that street lights and light from windows increase the risk of air raids enough that every possible trace is, well, blacked out.

It means that, by contrast to the brightly lit stage Adam's just escaped from, the alley's only darkness to him at first. He knows he's not alone. In the distance, he can hear quiet conversations and low laughter from other men who've come out to breathe the night air. Only men. The local girls don't get onto the base.

Once his eyes have adjusted, he follows the wall towards the corner of the building and the sound of voices, pulling his cigarette case from his pocket and a smile from his stage persona as he catches sight of uniforms in the moonlight. "Evening, boys. Anyone got a light?"

The man nearest to him turns, head tilting back - short guy, cute face once Adam can see it, sharp features warmed by a wide mouth and eyes with crinkles at the corners that betray how easily that mouth smiles - and pats his pockets. "Had it here just a minute ago..."

Laughter greets that statement, and Adam quirks an eyebrow. "Someone wanna fill me in on the joke?"

"The LT's out of smokes," one of the others puts in - taller, blandly handsome, hat that's definitely not part of his uniform. "Permanently."

"Is that so?" Adam turns his attention back to the lieutenant. "You don't smoke?"

The man triumphantly produces a battered looking lighter. "Just can't hold onto them," he says cheerfully. "These guys run me out every time."

Better and better. "Then let me provide," Adam purrs, sets a cigarette between his lips, and bends to cup his hands over the flame - both to shield it from the light breeze, and to hide it from any passing wardens - as he lights it, draws deep, then offers it over to the lieutenant, grinning at the wolf whistles the men produce in response.

"Gonna do that for all of us, sweetheart?" one of the others cuts in.

Shaking off the shiver that wants to work down his spine at the tone, Adam calmly lights another cigarette for himself before closing the lieutenant's hand back over his own lighter. "Even I don't have enough for everyone, boys. Perks for the officer."

The officer in question's slightly pinker than he had been, but takes the cigarette without hesitation, blowing a cloud in the questioner's face. "Back inside, guys. Don't you wanna hear the pretty lady sing to you?"

"Lil's gonna be disappointed if you don't," Adam adds smoothly, tapping ash to the side, safely clear of his dress shoes. "Came all this way to give you boys the sounds of home..."

Hat-guy purses his lips, glances at the lieutenant, and nods. "Wouldn't wanna disappoint a classy dame like that. Getting cold out here, anyway. LT, you coming?"

The lieutenant takes another pull on his cigarette. "Just gonna catch a little more of this night air," he says easily. "English beer goes straight through me."

"Starts out as a puddle of piss," the man who'd asked for cigarettes mutters, scowls, and turns to head inside.

Hat-guy tips his hat to Adam, waiting for the others to go on in. "You take requests, Mr. Singer?"

"Adam," Adam says quietly. "Got something you wanna hear?"

"Georgia," Hat-guy says, smile just visible in the moonlight. "Got a soft spot for Georgia."

"On My Mind?" Adam checks, grinning at the nod. "Who's it for?"

"Name's Matt." Hat-guy nods again, one more look at the lieutenant. "You come on in soon, sir."

"Soon," the lieutenant agrees, and stays quiet as Matt-with-the-hat heads back towards the door.

Adam draws on his cigarette again, sending the smoke upwards into the night. "So, Lieutenant... you know my name, but I don't know yours."

The lieutenant grins, teeth white in the moonlight. "That's right, Adam."

Adam laughs, holding his cigarette low to keep the lit end down. "C'mon, a name for a name. It's only fair."

"You got Matt's name for yours," the lieutenant says amiably. "Now you want another?"

"I want yours." It's becoming a challenge now, one that's engaging Adam more than just the man's pretty face and the way he smiles in the starlight. "Do I have to sign the official secrets act?"

"Not if you're only singing." Another drag, and the lieutenant stubs his cigarette out against the wall before dropping the butt to the dirt and grinding his heel down on it. "Better go see that man about that dog."

"You want _me_ to call you sir?" Adam calls after the man as he disappears around the corner into the dark, then laughs when he gets no response.

That's when he realizes that the lieutenant's gone into the alley that he came out of, that he's going to have to go down again to get back to the stage - and that he doesn't hear the sound of water hitting the wall. Not to mention that there's a perfectly good bathroom inside the mess hall.

Adam gives the lieutenant a clear minute anyway and makes sure he's whistling loudly as he heads around the corner. It's darker down there, corrugated iron fence close to the building blocking out more moonlight than hits the road out front, but it's not too dark to see the lieutenant leaning against the wall.

"Special request?" Adam asks softly. He's not willing to risk misreading the situation, even when it seems pretty clear. There's a certain amount he can keep hidden, and it's easier for an officer to hide things than a private, but still. He doesn't want to end up arrested instead of moving on with the USO.

"Something like that." The lieutenant flicks his lighter once, flame bright in the darkness and dying swiftly, shadows hiding the area when the lighter closes again. "My name. It's Kris. Kristopher - "

"Kris is all I need." Anything more and the risk gets higher. A first name and a rank is enough for him to find an identity if he goes looking, but Adam won't go looking. "Nice name."

A flash of something pale suggests that Kris rolls his eyes. "Seriously, man?"

"Seriously," Adam agrees, lets his hand guide the way through the darkness, curls his fingers around the back of Kris's neck, and pulls him away from the wall enough for a kiss. Hot and messy, taste of cigarettes wound through it, soft sound from the back of Kris's throat just as much encouragement as the way Kris's hands come up to grasp his shoulders and the way Kris's body arches in against his own.

The best thing about uniforms that Adam's found is that they're, well, uniform. The fabric's rough as anything, the cut doesn't flatter anyone, the color's frankly not suited to any skin tone he's yet seen, but once he figured out how to get into the first uniform he encountered, he knew how to get into the rest. Officers get slightly finer material, but the fly still fastens the same way and he can get his hand inside within five seconds. It's one of the new life skills he prides himself on.

Kris gasps against his lips and moans, and Adam tightens his other arm around Kris's back, keeping them away from the wall. Support's a great thing, but damp stains on uniforms are a giveaway neither of them need. "Okay, baby, okay, I've got you. I'm gonna take care of you, just keep it down for me..."

Noise would be another giveaway, and Adam really doesn't want Matt-the-hat or any of the other guys under Kris's command following them to find out what's causing the sounds.

Kris nods, hair brushing against Adam's forehead, and Adam kisses him again for that, hard and brief as his hand wraps around Kris's cock. He's always loved kissing just for the sake of kissing but, at times like this, kissing's good for keeping those noises quiet as well. Kris opens up for him so easily, his mouth warm and soft, body giving Adam all the cues he's not getting from sounds. Kris tenses when Adam strokes his cock to hardness, shudders when Adam rubs his thumb over the head, goes still with his breathing shallow when Adam lets himself take enough time to tease his fingers around the crown, pressing lightly on the underside.

When Kris goes up on his toes and Kris's fingers dig hard into Adam's shirt, Adam takes that as a sign he needs to stop, because there are more incriminating stains than wall-damp that can end up on a uniform. Kris, flatteringly enough, doesn't seem to be thinking about practicalities like stains, given the whine he feeds into Adam's mouth and the way his fingers scrabble at Adam's shoulders, heart beating hard enough that Adam can feel it against his own chest. "Adam..."

Fuck. Fuck, that's not playing fair. Sure, it's hot feeling Kris coming apart for him; sure, Adam's been having a good time; sure, Adam's turned on. But hearing his own name from Kris, roughened and held soft, vowels drawn out to prove Adam really hasn't been imagining that there's more than a hint of southern in Kris's accent, is what really kicks him twice in the libido and presses his cock almost painfully hard against his pants. "Easy, baby, trust me, I'm not gonna leave you hanging. Can you let me go a little? I've got you, c'mon, Kris, let me... Yeah, like that. That's good..."

Enough room to crouch down, hands on Kris's hips to steady himself, around to Kris's ass in a moment of pure self-indulgence and down to Kris's thighs to stop himself falling back and planting his own ass on the damp ground. "Just hold onto my shoulders, okay? And keep it quiet."

Adam's pants are cut slim enough that splaying his knees as wide as he needs for steadiness is really not comfortable, but it's worth it when he slides his mouth over Kris's cock and Kris _whimpers_ for him. Softly, pretty obviously trying to stay quiet, but there's no mistaking that sound for anything else. Adam's cock pulses appreciation, and Adam ignores it to suck Kris in deeper, tongue curled to slide close along Kris's shaft.

It doesn't take long. It doesn't take as long as Adam finds himself wanting it to take, but it's really fucking gratifying when he feels Kris shudder and give it up for him, the bittersalt of come filling his mouth, the tension sapping from Kris's body and the extra weight that presses down on Adam's shoulders until Kris has enough control over his body to stand again. Quiet, so quiet, the loudest sound in the alley Kris's rough breathing and the sound of fabric against fabric as Kris fastens his fly and Adam stands up again, swallowing and licking his lips.

He's going to need to check a mirror before anyone else sees him, just in case he's missed anything in the darkness.

"You, uh." Kris's voice is low in more than just volume, drawl of it easier and slower than before. "You want me to...?"

Adam shakes his head. There's nothing he'd like more than to have the favor returned, but his break can only last so long, and he'd be surprised if Lieutenant Kris's offer goes as far as anything that's not going to leave his stage pants with a stain that would show up beautifully on the black fabric. "I've got it," he murmurs, rests a hand against Kris's jaw, and kisses Kris again, short and with his mouth closed. Maybe Kris wouldn't pull away from the taste of his own come in Adam's mouth, but if he would, Adam doesn't want to find out. "Get back to your men, LT. Before they come looking for you."

Kris tenses again for a moment, then goes blank, taking a step back. "You're sure I can't...?"

Resisting the urge to reach into his pants, Adam produces his cigarette case instead, offering it to Kris. "You can light me before you go."

"I can do that," Kris agrees, squares his shoulders, and pulls out his lighter again, steadying the flame for Adam. For a moment, the warm light lets Adam see Kris's face, the darkness of Kris’s eyes, the intentness of his expression as Kris watches him instead of the light - and then Kris curses, the flame dies, and Kris shakes his hand in the dark.

Adam doesn't laugh. He doesn't catch Kris's hand to kiss the scorched fingers either, and that urge is a lot harder to hold back. He does take the cigarette from his own lips and place it between Kris's, leaving it for him to smoke. "Here. Don't let the guys take this one, okay?"

Kris grins enough for the cigarette to droop, orange glow of the end bobbing in the darkness, then takes it from his mouth to blow smoke to the side. "I guess you'd better keep this, then. I've got no use for it if I don't have smokes, right?"

He presses the still-warm lighter into Adam's hand, draws on the cigarette once more, nods, and heads out of the alley.

Wondering what exactly just happened, Adam lights up another cigarette for himself, and smokes half of it by the time he heads back inside to find a mirror before he's got to be back on stage with the band.

He sings ‘Georgia’ for Matt, because he promised. He sings ‘Don't Sit Under The Apple Tree’ for Kris, because he didn't. He sings ‘Moonlight Serenade’ for Brad, because he always does. It's the first time that it doesn't hurt.


End file.
